Unlike Andres, Onyx didn’t have the luxury of surplus cash. he could make a pretty penny selling Sharpedo teeth-- and given the looming apocalypse, items that supposedly warded off doomsdays were in high demand, right now.

He was wearing a full wetsuit (black and Rocket purple) and clambering out of the water, up onto the beach. He had a wet, zipped-up rectangular lunchbox that was darkened at the corners with a watery, red substance; the pale skin on his hand was stained with blood and he had some vicious, jagged scratches across his palms and forearms.

He hurt. He was used to hurting. But he had the better part of probably over a grand or two of shark teeth in his little lunchbox. More than enough to keep him comfortable for a while. It was worth it. But he hurt.

He was so focused on his hurt that he almost didn’t see the little brown menace streaking towards him until it was too late-- as it was, his brain registered not a threat, and he stood still as Pepino bounced off his shin. “Ugh,” he growled, giving the baby Zigzagoon a menacing look, but all it did was succeed in making him bark more.

Why did this keep happening?!

Onyx’s eyes tracked up the beach to Pepino’s trainer, but by then, the venom had drained from the glare and was replaced by exhaustion.

Blood dripped into the sand, watery and bright red.

“I’d accuse you of following me,” Onyx hissed, more tired than mean, “but that would be giving you too much credit.”

There was no heat to his words. Like the first time he’d run into Andres again, he couldn’t conjure the hatred. There was just an all-encompassing exhaustion that bled into sadness, a feeling he couldn’t place-- something too close to longing that set his teeth on edge and made his gut roil. At least the rampant horniness of their grocery store encounter was gone.

For the moment, anyway.

andres buenaventura

☉

Pepino is a pup with no fear so even Onyx's scowl isnt enough to deter him. The little raccoon barked and yipped excitedly, running circles around the rocket as Andres tried to lightly push him away with his foot. He succeeded in dragging the normal type back twice but the stubborn pup would get back up and go back to his harassment. [break][break]

"Hey Onyx," he waved awkwardly glancing from Pepino to Onyx and back again. "Good day for beach combin'...uh-"' its now that Andres' eyes travel from his bully's face down his arms and then bloodied hands. "Oh- oh fuck dude-" he began as concern creased the easy smile he'd carried. "What- uh- what happened?" He asked. As he did Pepino headbutt the same shin again, as if asking for attention from the grunt.


[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Pepino runs tireless laps around Onyx’s feet, kicking sand up against his legs. It sticks to the wet neoprene of his suit, which is unfortunate, given that it’s a rental. Even more unfortunate is that he’s bleeding on it, but at least the blood was his fault.

Andres tries to play footsy with the little rodent and Onyx just rolls his eyes. Eventually, the man gives up, smiles his stupid dorky (cute) smile, and asks Onyx how he’s doing. Tch, as though he cares.

When Andres notices Onyx’s hands, his dorky (cute) smile falls away and is replaced with concern. Onyx snorts, a derisive sound. As though he cares. He holds up his right hand, revealing a long, jagged cut, diagonal across his entire palm.

“I was hunting sharks.” He lets his eyes flick away, for a beat. "For their teeth."

andres buenaventura

☉

Pepino jumped at the bloody hand, attempting to reach it like a long lost price. He's relentless jumping and spinning and jumping and spinning until eventually he tried to climb the man in an attempt to reach his paw paw. [break][break]

Andres is too distracted by the gash to control his dog. "I-...I uh-" Despite how bloody it was the idea of fighting sharka made him…seem really cool. But that was par for the course with Onyx. Everything he did was cool. At least, that's how Andres had seen it all those years ago. Even now, admiration pushed past the concern. "Oh shit-...that's really cool but- uhhh do you…want help? Or, are you done right now?" He said before nodding over at a lifeguard in the distance. "Nelly has a first aid kit you can borrow." He said. [break][break]

It is now that Pepino, if allowed, would lick Onyx, hanging precariously off his shoulder before waiting for Onyx to try to grab him and mercilessly licking his open wound.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Onyx’s blood drips down his fingers, spiderwebbing in spirals along the creases of his knuckles, falling like red gems to the sand below. Pepino’s tongue comes within inches of touching his hand, crimson polka dots splattering over the Zigzagoon’s brown fur.

Onyx is realizing, sort of at a distance, that his hand is starting to go numb, and like an idiot, he says, “It’s okay, I’ve lost more blood than this before.” Which is an absolutely idiotic thing to say, because a) no one asked, and b) how did that make anything any better?

There was an equally as stupid look in Andres’ eyes that used to make Onyx so mad. That stupid, doting, starry-eyed look that the kid always turned on whenever he wanted to be Onyx’s stupid friend. Like Onyx had been saving the world and not out in the ocean fist fighting sharks like a fucking moron because he’s poor and has a coke habit to fuel bills to pay.

“I’ll take a bandage,” is all he says, and then he jumps and hisses as Pepino finally gets a good lick in; he flexes his hand and a new wave of blood cascades over his wrist.

andres buenaventura

☉

While Pepino is trying to help lick Onyx's wounds, Andres' small smile dropped at Onyx's revelation. "O-Oh...I'm...I'm sorry?" he said eyes darting at the ground and around as he processed what exactly to say at him. "Well, at least you know how close you are to fainting right?" [break][break]

"C'mon, and after, if you want, I can help you hunt more sharks. Pepino sit." He said as the little raccoon sat by Onyx's feet to keep him company as Andres jogged over to the life guard. In the distance, Onyx can probably identify the bit of banter between him and the woman. She lightly shoves him and he ran a hand through his hair before taking the bandages and waving her off. As that happened Pepino shook, looking up at Onyx and whining as he continued bleeding, clearly worried about the stranger. [break][break]

"I got some antibacterial wipes to help clean it up." he added. Pepino barked happy Andres was back. He would help, he could help.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

He squinted at Andres, miffed by the apology. “What are you apologizing for?” he asked, voice a stint more demanding than he intended. It was a valid question-- Andres did have a lot to apologize for: his general idiocy, his luxury of mediocre wealth, the weird way he affects Onyx’s brain, his stupid face.

But Onyx didn’t see which one of those sins he was apologizing for, right now.

“Sure,” he said, and-- and he fucking rolled his eyes, like a goddamn teenager, and the sarcasm in his voice was thick and heavy, “that’s a plus.”

Andres is jogging away before Onyx can say anything else but he does catch the back half of what the blonde says and the geyser of discomfort that shoots up through his stomach is fucking palpable. He has a brief, startling image of Andres in the water surrounded by sharks and a second flash of a scene of him being rendered to bloody shreds and--

Pepino’s whine draws him back into himself and he looks down at the little rodent.

“I won’t let him get in the water,” he says, and then has to swallow an exasperated sigh because he’s fucking talking to the baby Zigzagoon like he’s a human being and Arceus on a fucking pony, why was he doing that?

He looks up in time to catch Andres’ interaction with the lady lifeguard. A bell goes off in his head: they’re fucking. No, they’ve fucked? Past tense? and he shakes his skull like an etch-a-sketch to clear those thoughts because why the fuck does it matter and fuck the tense of it, too.

When Andres returns, he’s silent, still stewing on the fucking/fucked quandary, and he silently holds out his hand, the gash across it vibrant with aqueous blood. It runs in rivulets over his wrist. He can’t stop his gaze from jumping between Andres’ chest (which is where he comes up to because the man is so fucking tall) and the lady lifeguard, who has taken her place on her tall, white, throne, and is paying him no fucking attention, whatsoever.

andres buenaventura
fellas is it gay if you pop a stiffy because your friend is touching you to bandage a wound

☉

Andres does clock Onyx's sour mood and sour puss expression, but it doesn't dull his excitement. Despite his concern, he's quick to clean up Onyx. Having acquired a small hand towel, Andres pressed it into wet skin lightly drying off salt and blood in one fell swoop. He holds their arm tight before guiding Onyx to hold it himself.[break][break]

Wordlessly, Andres is already ripping up anti bacterial packets and dabbing at open wounds while simultaneously blowing on them. They're too big for the packet of neosporin the lifeguard had given him, but he still tries to use it on what he can. [break][break]

Eventually he moved onto the bandaging, tying gauze onto the arm. "That should stop it. And if we need more I can always go back. Claire's nice." He explained before nodding over at the water. "So, where these Sharpedos at?" He asked as he retrieved a pokeball and let out a Manectric who began stretching on the sand. "Pepino can be bait and Takis can fuck 'em up."



[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

It’s like-- it’s like oil and water, the two of them. Like sunshine and darkness. Onyx is a void that constantly absorbs any trace of light, Andres is a heavenly body, beaming fit to break the band.

They don’t mix. They never have, never will.

Why does that bother him so much?

Onyx narrows his eyes as Andres begins to clean up the gash on his palm, fingers splayed, stock still; the simple act of first aid is more foreign to him than the process of being and staying injured and doesn’t that fucking say something about him.

It stings, it stings a lot, and the cut is deep enough that it aches in his bone and his wrist. But he holds still, as still as still, like if he moves he’ll break the spell and Andres will stop touching him.

“She’s nice,” he echoes, head tilting ever so slightly, gaze turning predatory. He can’t stop the question that escapes, slips through like a shred of his will grated to cheese and scattered to the wind. “You’re friends?”

He doesn’t care, he doesn’t, so why is the answer so important to him?

When Andres presses about the Sharpedo, Onyx feels an unfamiliar shock of fear helixing up his throat.

“I don’t need any more sharks,” he says, holding the bag in his uninjured hand, “though the idea of Pepino as bait is an appealing one.”

He grins. He’s not lost to himself with pining, yet.

Wait, what?

andres buenaventura
fellas is it gay if you pop a stiffy because your friend is touching you to bandage a wound

☉

For the most part, Onyx is a pretty good patient. Whether it's because the wound isn't that bad or Onyx is used to being bandaged, he doesn't know. But it looks bad. Even worse wet. White gauze stains pretty quickly, but thankfully doesn't fully soak through bandages. Not full anyway. He spares a glance at the lifeguard who had gone back to her perch, watching folks in the surf. "Yeah, Claire's got poke treats on her chair all the time. She gave one to Pepino by chance and now we always say hi when we see her." he said with a snort. Pepino barked, wagging his tail happily. He heard the word treat. [break][break]

As the men discuss using him as bait, the zigzgaoon yipped in protest, hopping backwards and growling up at the pair. Andres only laughed and Pepino huffed, turning away from them. Which is all for the best when Andres gives one last glance over the arm before light kissing dry knuckles and wiggling his fingers. "Sana sana, colita de rana and all that jazz." [break][break]

He then shared his own little haul with his bully. "Well if you're done wanna show and tell? this is everything we found so far." He said, casual as he tilted the contents of the brightly colored kid's bucket towards Onyx. He seemed to take the conversation in stride, unwilling to let it end so soon.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Onyx hums a noncommittal note, following Andres’ gaze back up to the lifeguard chair where the indomitable Claire sits. His face is placid, and externally, he’s all calm. But internally, his heart, is, like, doing things? For no fucking reason?

They’re not fucking? And it’s both a question and a hopeful statement, that he quickly has to put the kebosh on because, why would it be hopeful? Why the fuck would it be hopefully, Onyx? You’ve never even been on a date.

Wait, back up, how’d we get to dating? Hello? Onyx?

His mental fortitude gone solidly out to sea, it is a testament to his strength and control that he just swallows and stares.

Until Andres kisses his knuckles.

And it’s literally-- it’s just-- just a touch. Not even a real kiss. Not even anything that would suggest at the barest hint of affection.

But fucking fuck.

He’s lucky that Andres turns away then because he does, too, staring out at the waves lapping up on the shore and the beachgoes screaming in the distance because his face is fucking beet red and he. He needs. He needs to calm down.

His voice only sounds a tiny bit strained when he asks, “What does that mean?” pointedly looking down into Andres’ proffered bucket of beach trash and not at Andres himself.

andres buenaventura
onyx.exe has stopped working

☉

His attention moves from Pepino who he has calmed down and brought back to his side, to Onyx again. He tilted his head, confused for a moment as he noted the raging sunburn the guy was starting to get. He'd been out here for a while hadn't he? "Uhhh, it's like this magic spell to help your wounds heal faster." he explained with a grin. [break][break]

"Parents used to do it to me and my sisters all the time." He doesn't seen a double meaning in Onyx's words. Doesn't even notice that there might be a double meaning in Onyx's own mind about the whole thing. He does not- cannot see it. Such positivity had been, quite literally, beat out of him years ago. And while he was friendly, he wanted to stay around Onyx...this would only last as long as Onyx would allow it to. Before things got angry, scary. [break][break]

Maybe it's his own fault for chasing something so fleeting but he can't help it. emotions long buried and forgotten seemed to seep to the surface like Springwater. At least now- now he could take a punch better. Maybe now he could outlast Onyx. He'd seem him be brutal. He'd witnessed a crime that he would take to his grave and yet, despite the underlying nerves and the slight shake to his hands at times he wanted to stay right there. He wanted to understand still, why Onyx had detested him so much. He just wanted to be his friend again. Or whatever Onyx had thought of him all those years ago those few weeks before their first gym challenges. He would settle for that too.

[break][break]

+ onyx straub | mission prompt: to sink one's teeth [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Onyx makes a face. His first thought is that is complete and utter nonsense. His second thought is that’s adorable which is, like, antithetical to any thought he’d ever had before. What the fuck was wrong with him?

His willingness to tolerate Andres had always been a weak point. Even in their childhood. Back then, Jett had genuinely liked the kid, and so had wanted him around; Onyx did what Jett asked. Always had, always would.

But then she died. She died, and Andres had swooped in and taken the only thing he’d ever been good at-- just, taken it away from him. And with it, any warmth, any good feelings.

Where was that hatred? Where was that loathing? It was like… like it had burned phosphorous hot the first time they’d seen each other again, in Hoenn, and instead of finding it fueling him, as it had in the past, it was just… exhausting. It’d burned away an old scab and the wound underneath had necrolysed. There was no blood supply. There was nothing left to give.

“What did you find?” he asked, instead of churning that machine, that engine of hatred, that now needed a handcranking to get started again. He nodded down towards Andres’ bucket of beach trash.

andres buenaventura
onyx.exe has stopped working

☉